"Hahaha, hahahaha!!"
On the floor of the chapel, Count Palocas lay like a beast unable to break free from a hunting trap's chains. His chest heaved erratically; his inhales sounded like sneers, his exhales like roars, every struggle a defiance against the Grim Reaper.
These humans, who had yet to grasp the gravity of the situation, would not run rampant for long. Soon, they would bear the world-shattering wrath of a Blood Clan Count.
Amid Count Palocas's laughter, Lanqi handed the colossal syringe to the Executioner.
"Mr. Executioner, our job is to save lives. That is all that matters."
As Lanqi spoke, it sounded as though shrill medical alarms were ringing all around them, heralding a patient's critical emergency.
"We must do everything in our power for the patient before us."
"Understood."
The Executioner took the [Blood Pressure Resuscitator]. Though he was no doctor, he felt certain he could wield this medical instrument with practiced ease.
White illuminated every corner, and the cold, hard chrome-steel medical instrument reflected a piercing glare.
In this pristine, stark-white emergency room, everything was under strict control, time measured down to the millisecond.
The patient was now prepared for surgery. His face was twisted in pain and mental anguish, the blood coursing through his veins seemingly on fire. Even without looking at the readings on a blood pressure monitor, one could tell—blood pressure was far too high.
A tense atmosphere congealed in the air, leaving only breathing as ragged as an erratic ECG and the heavy thuds of an overloaded heart.
Beneath the center of the ceiling, the Executioner deftly located the largest vessel in Count Palocas's cubital fossa—the brachial artery.
His eyes locked onto the Count's skin, preparing to draw off his excess blood.
"Hahahahaha... You're finally learning to fear? Think long and hard about what will happen once the sun disappears."
Cold light reflected from the stained glass struck Count Palocas's face, the gleaming white floor tiles forming a stark contrast with the bloodstains from his grievous injuries. An eerie smile flickered across his face, followed by a burst of loud laughter, as though celebrating something joyous.
"Praise the Goddess..."
Clutching the syringe, the Executioner still had that feverish look in his eyes.
According to Mr. Lanqi's ecological research report, the Blood Clan of this era kept humans as captive livestock for food and playthings of pleasure; the stronger the vampire, the more immeasurable the slaughter on their hands. In other words, subduing them earned boundlessly vast merit.
A chilling smile curled at the corners of the Executioner's mouth. He crouched down and drove the needle into Count Palocas's brachial artery. Taking a deep breath, his arm muscles tautened, and he began to pull the syringe's plunger.
"..."
The moment the needle pierced his skin, Count Palocas felt only an itch. Compared to the agony from earlier, this could almost be called painless.
Then, an icy sensation spread through his body.
Count Palocas's body shuddered violently, but he was instantly pinned down firmly by the Paladin and the male guard.
"Don't be afraid. It doesn't hurt..."
The Executioner began slowly drawing the blood. Every tug on the plunger felt as if it were peeling away Count Palocas's very life.
The three clergymen watched the blood rise within the transparent cylinder. The crimson fluid appeared heavy and turbid, as though boundless merit lay hidden inside.
"!!"
Count Palocas, who had been about to mock these people for being at their wit's end, suddenly took on an expression of utter disbelief. His mind raced, gradually piecing together what this group was actually doing.
"Wh—what are you doing?!! Stop! Stop at once, you wretched maggots!!!"
Count Palocas shrieked in desperation like a flayed beast. For the first time since his birth, he understood something far more terrifying than death, and his body thrashed frantically in a bid to break free!
Gradually.
Count Palocas began to feel waves of dizziness. His consciousness grew blurry, and his body felt lighter and lighter.
Every pull of the [Blood Pressure Resuscitator] felt like siphoning his life away drop by drop. He wanted to resist, but his body felt pinned beneath a massive boulder, unable to budge.
"Take deep breaths. Dizziness is completely normal," Lanqi's gentle voice sounded by Count Palocas's ear.
"Nooo!!!"
Count Palocas's voice trembled. He finally understood what an unhinged, horrifying monster that black-haired, green-eyed bastard truly was.
As his noble blood was drained, Count Palocas could clearly feel his proud strength slipping away. Sensation slowly faded from his hands and feet; every beat of his heart felt like a heavy blow, stretching time into an agonizing crawl.
The Executioner operated with all his might, pumping the plunger back again and again like a dragon boat racer, fiercely siphoning off Count Palocas's blood!
"Aaaah..."
The surrounding air seemed frozen, leaving only the weak, struggling sound of Count Palocas's breath.
"Hyperion, our project, 'On Ecological Balance and Blood Clan Governance,' has now yielded its first batch of valuable data and practical results," Lanqi remarked with satisfaction, hands clasped behind his back.
Hyperion was startled.
"Our?!"
Though she had overheard Lanqi's academic project plans during his conversation with Imperial Princess Alexia upstairs on the second floor, she had never expected to find herself included in the list of project researchers!
"Well, of course your name will be on the final paper," Lanqi said, looking at her in surprise.
After hesitating for a full two seconds, Hyperion shut her eyes tightly and gave an agonizing nod.
"...Fine. Thank you, then."
She knew Lanqi meant well.
However...
If given a choice, Hyperion truly did not want her name anywhere near the author byline of a thesis that promised to be so completely outrageous.
When published, that paper was bound to read like the confession of a war criminal, with the byline serving as the roster of war criminals.
But on this journey to the Creti Empire to straighten out the Blood Clan, Hyperion had no choice but to go—or rather, she had even more reason to go than Lanqi did.
Hyperion could only share the fruits of this research with Lanqi through her tears.
Things had come to this; she could never set foot in the temples of the Church of the Goddess of Fate again.
While they chatted and watched the Count get drained of blood,
"Speaking of which, even if this Count weakens during the day, won't we have to constantly keep draining his blood every single day?"
The merchant guild's young master, who had originally been sitting at the banquet table, jogged over to observe the surgery to reform the Blood Clan Count and asked.
He didn't look the least bit frightened now, figuring a Blood Clan Count was really nothing special after all.
The cold-faced female guard stared at the young master in shock. She never imagined that their family's clumsy, softhearted young master could now utter something so utterly psychopathic without batting an eye!
Yet upon closer thought, keeping a Blood Clan Count like this imprisoned in the castle every night truly was unsettling.
If the Count ever replenished his blood and seized an opportunity to retaliate, every one of them might be plunged into an irreversible deathtrap.
"Mm, but don't worry. I promise everyone will sleep peacefully and eat well. We're definitely going to have a wonderful time over the next four days!"
Lanqi turned back to look at them with a smile, sunny and cheerful as ever.
"..."
Seeing Lanqi's innocent smile, the others instantly understood that he intended to do something even more diabolical.
Yet knowing Lanqi was on their side at a time like this felt almost excessively reassuring.
Chapter 154